Thinking About a Continuation

19. March 2025 · Write a comment · Categories: Random Book and Media Musings

A bit ago, I wrote about continuing stories, and one of the books of mine that I touched on was the story of the two cousins during WWII, Peg Becker Moorehouse and Vennie Stoneman Vexler in My Dear Cousin. The whole concept came to me in a dream, which is not a totally eccentric way to get a notion for a book, but one which has only happened once to me. But it was the one set of lives that I thought there might be a continuation for past the limits of an accounting of their lives before and during the war. That book ended on an optimistic note, with Vennie married to her perfect Mr. Darcy, and Peg and her children reunited with her husband, a prisoner of war by the Japanese.

There aren’t really happy endings in real life, I think – only happy intervals and if we are fortunate, those intervals are long ones. Otherwise, our lives are a sequence of dark and bright. As it happens, the end of the Second World War was one of those illuminated periods, although for some parts of the world there was just more of the same but with a different cast of characters after the summer of 1945. The Iron Curtain slammed down across eastern Europe, the survivors of the Holocaust fought to continue living in a sliver of a new nation in the ancient land of Israel, India was violently partitioned, and Communist-led and inspired insurrections or civil wars broke out across the Far East almost as soon as the ink on the Japanese surrender was dry.

When I looked at a couple of my books, speculating on possible but unwritten aftermaths, one of those speculations touched on the characters in My Dear Cousin. I wondered if Vennie would really adjust and be happy in the role of a stay-at-home faculty wife to an academic. After all, she had been raised on a rural ranch, trained and worked as a nurse, and had an adventurous war as a military nurse … would she really make a successful marriage to the product of a wealthy, and worldly East coast urbanite? I speculated that it would take a long adjustment time for that to happen. Perhaps they would separate for a time, and she would return to nursing,  rejoining the Army  as a military nurse in Korea.

The real-life couple whose experiences I based some of Peg and Tommy’s experiences in wartime Singapore and Malaya returned to their rubber plantation after the war – but eventually had to leave Malaya, when the Communist insurgency there made life too dangerous for their family to stay. I thought that Peg and Tommy, being from the same kind of background – one having grown up managing a rubber plantation, and the other as part of a ranching family – would have no more than the usual post-war PTSD to ruffle their marriage. But they also would have to leave, and start again somewhere else, probably Australia.

Anyway – the prospect of continuing with a matched set of characters, and the same concept of letters back and forth – is still in the formulative stage, but it is intriguing to construct: two different theaters, wracked by war and unrest, two women trying to cope and make sense out of it all. A historic irony to this is that in Malaya, the local Communist insurgents had been allies of the British, and supported by them during the war, while at the same time Korea had been unwilling allies of the Japanese. It has been reported that often the most brutal guards of Allied prisoners in the Far East were Korean draftees in the Japanese Army.

I’m just toying with the concept for now – I have two other books simmering on the burners for now – the final Luna City installment, and the Gold Rush YA sequel to West Towards the Sunset – but it’s not me, unless I have several projects all going at once…

Things Change – Not Always for the Better

16. March 2025 · Write a comment · Categories: Domestic, Random Book and Media Musings

I’m trying to fire up a schedule of book events for 2025, this year, since Wee Jamie is old enough to be taken places that don’t interrupt his schedule too much. One of the multi-author venues that I had previously enjoyed doing was the West Texas Book and Music Festival, in Abilene – I think we made the road trip, hopscotching along back-country roads north from Junction, through Ballenger…… to Abilene at least three times. I liked it at least as much for the chance to take pictures of back-country Texas, as I did participating in a community-supported book event, with other authors, and people who liked books, and wanted to support authors, reading books, libraries and generally the community. The West Texas Book and Music Festival in Abilene had enough juice to invite writers who had been heard of outside of Texas as guest speakers – Elmer Kelton was one, who unfortunately passed from this vale of tears a bare month or two before I had a chance to meet him at the Festival in the fall of (gasp!) 2009. I did meet Paulette Jiles and Scott Zesh the following year, and we got some lovely photos of a balloon festival which was being held in Abilene the very same weekend.

We stayed two nights in a tiny cabin at a KOA campground in Abilene, which was the cheapest option available to us – yes, I am not so well-known that I have expenses paid. This year, for various reasons, we could afford the road-trip and two nights at a hotel or campground, so I looked up what was going on, as far as book festivals go, in Abilene – but it seems like that event has withered up and died, without a trace on social media. The Covidiocy canceled the event for 2020. I had a reply to an inquiry last year that they were already full-up, thanks for asking. I made a mental note to ask about this year, but ll the links that I have are dead, or go to the civic website.  From what I can tell, it may have been incorporated into the big yearly book event in Austin. A deep sigh, and on to investigating other small book festivals.

On the note of things that change and not for the better, my daughter and I, with Wee Jamie went to spend a Saturday in Fredericksburg. We went by way of Blanco and Johnson City, where we had done market events, and from Johnson City over so-called Texas Wine Road, through Stonewall, Grapetown and thence to Fredericksburg, with a stop at Wildseed Farms, hoping that their wildflower meadows would be in bloom – alas, too early in the year. I did see a few shy bluebonnets in a sheltered, sunny verge, and all the redbud trees are in full flower, but nothing much in comparison to what will be out in lavish bloom by the end of April. As a diversion, we counted wineries along the road between Johnson City and Fredericksburg – we came up with a total of 73, although we might have double-counted some and missed a few others. The whole of Route 290 seems now to be a prolonged and long party spot these days, which might account for a great many mildly sloshed people all along Main Street.

Fredericksburg has changed, since the first few times we visited, in the late 90s – and I’m not certain it’s for the better. Maybe I just liked it when they rolled up the sidewalks at sundown, save for a few restaurants on Main Street. The Fredericksburg Herb farm was really a herb garden with candles, perfume and skin-care items for sale along with seeds and herbs, and not under different ownership as a luxury spa. The old five and dime, which didn’t take credit cards and was about the last normal retail outlet on Main, is now an upscale retailer of expensive western wear (I scoped out a pair of $700 dollar women’s boots there and winced). The Christmas store also changed hands – now upscale boutique fashion items instead of Christmas things and garden décor. A big ultra-modern new luxury hotel took over what had been a very pleasant Beaux Arts-style two-story shop building, renovated it out of all previous experience and attached it at the back into a whole new ultra-modern sprawl. Rustlin’ Robs, Dogologie (the store for all things dog, which always has a dish of water by the door for their canine friends), Der Kuchen Laden (the best little housewares shop in Texas) and the Peach House are still there, which is reassuring. But the retail outlets, restaurants and businesses have spread from Main Street to Austin and San Antonio streets, replacing the modest little early 20th century cottages and older houses. About the only good expansion that I can see is that of the Museum of the Pacific War, which went from the old Nimitz Hotel and an open-sided pole barn a few blocks distant, to a big new complex and expanded outdoor complex where they state WWII reenactor events. At a book event there a few years ago, one of the members told us that there are now more B&B beds in the downtown area than there were regular homes. I can believe it, especially after this last Saturday.

We walked up several blocks, and crossed Main Street to walk the other side, noting the crowds, and also noting that there weren’t many families with children, and hardly anyone walking with a dog on a leash or in a doggie stroller. It seemed like it was more spring-break/party city, than a quaint, old-fashioned Texas country small town with an attractive and historic downtown. My daughter says – perhaps next time, we should visit during the week – not on a Saturday or a holiday. The brush fire getting going in the afternoon of that day in the hills north of town didn’t help our mood much, what with pale beige clouds of smoke piling up like clouds, and the occasional siren on a brush fire truck roaring through town. We drove home, looking over our shoulders almost all the way.

The New Book Series!

20. December 2024 · Comments Off on The New Book Series! · Categories: Random Book and Media Musings

So – mercifully what I thought of as a sort of creative dry spell has somehow come unblocked, what with putting out West Towards the Sunset this week. I had thought a little about making that book the first in a series, following the Kettering family on the emigrant trail west to California in 1846. I thought, in a rather half-hearted fashion, about creating it as part of a multivolume family story, rather like the Little House series, but nothing much came to mind, once I gotten them into California. I had set up some future elements by briefly mentioning certain developments, but the trouble was that if I carried them out completely, and brought the overall story forward to include all kinds of adventures and characters – the main character, Sally, would age out of being a tween-teen. It would also be a stretch, historically, to involve a female character in what was almost exclusively a male domain, in Gold Rush era California. The story would transition into something more like an adult novel … and I wanted to keep the main character relatable to younger readers. The poor kidlets need a good thrilling, informative read, after all the values-free grey goo and perversity that is otherwise inflicted on them by the current established YA fare.

What to do, what to do …

What to do … would be to make subsequent volumes sequentially centering on Sally’s younger brothers and sisters. Eureka! That would let me carry on with teen-tween characters within the same established family. I could write in Jon’s adventures early in the Gold Rush, and a younger sister and even younger brother pick up later segments of the overall story arc. The potential stories and characters over two decades of this part of the wild and woolly West are practically limitless. The Gold Rush itself, then the silver rush into Nevada’s Comstock Lode, odd-ball characters, vigilantes and crime galore, stage coaches, the railway and the Pony Express. I could write the youngest brother into being an associate of Samuel Clemens, when he was roughing it on the frontier in his early days as a writer. And then it seemed like I was back in the fountain of creativity; ideas for plots, characters and twists and turns of a narrative all popped into mind.

I have all the reference books already, and there were so many elements, events and real-life characters that I couldn’t fold into my previous Gold Rush book, I can hardly wait to start on the next one. But I promise that I will wrap up the Luna City series before I even start on the next book in the Kettering family saga.

It’s ALIVE!

15. December 2024 · Comments Off on It’s ALIVE! · Categories: Random Book and Media Musings

On Amazon kindle, available for pre-order! West Toward the Sunset

It’s aimed at the teen and tween audience, and perhaps might be the first of a series, following the Kettering family and their friends. The print version will be available around Christmas, in a week and a bit. Cover courtesy of Cover Girls, who did my last two book covers. I love that the boy Jon looks just like my little brother did, when he was a kidlet.

The Ephemeral World

28. November 2024 · 2 comments · Categories: Memoir, Random Book and Media Musings

There was a YA novel that my mother had a cherished copy of – likely a first edition, because I vividly remember the dust jacket painting in the 1930s commercial style – a pair of teenagers on horseback, in a landscape that was very clearly California’s back country. There was a gnarled live oak tree behind them, some ranges of green trees that looked like a citrus orchard, and a range of purple mountains on the horizon. Mom had her own bookplate pasted into the inside cover of that copy – a black and white picture of a cowboy on a horse, swinging a lariat. That book gravitated from Granny Jessie’s house through three or four houses where we all lived, until it finally was destroyed in the 2003 Paradise Mountain fire, which burned Mom and Dad’s retirement home to the ground, along with just about all the inherited memorabilia and books from both sides of the family. I had a go at replacing some of the books which had been lost, but I was stymied for years at remembering the name and author. And things happened: Dad passed away in 2010, and Mom fell catastrophically some years after that. She has been paralyzed from the shoulders down ever since. She had to go to a nursing home, and then to my sister’s home. The retirement house had to be sold, all the furniture and fittings dispersed among the family, sold at an estate sale or given away … which is irrelevant to this essay, but for the fact that that book was the one which I never got around to replacing.

I couldn’t remember the title of that book, or the author, although I could remember such things as the name of the protagonist, his friends, the general plot, and the fact that there was a map of the relevant area in the book. His name was Billy, his cousin from the big city was Penny, his horse was named Querida, and the family name was Deane – they lived on a ranch in the back country of Northern San Diego County, as it was then. He had a good friend in a boy from the local Indian reservation, and the plot involved dangerous smuggling from over the border, and an earth tremor which had somehow rerouted the natural springs which watered the Deane ranch. Such is my erratic memory – one which Mom once compared to an untidy filing cabinet, full of curious odds, ends and strange but true facts, but all jumbled together in no particular organized order. Now and again, I tried out a search using these bare factoids, but nothing ever turned up, until I threw out the question to the regulars at the Sunday morning book thread at Ace of Spades HQ – and yay – a miracle!

A regular reader there applied those various sketchy details out to a better search engine and came up with the title and author name! Hurrah! The book was titled The Singing Cave, by one Margaret Leighton Carver, who apparently had a good long run as a writer of young adult historical fiction and biographies for about twenty years. The Singing Cave, originally released in 1945 was one of her first popular novels. She lived in California, which accounted for the local west-coast color. I found a reasonably-priced copy at Abe Books and ordered it at once. Not only was there a certain sentimental value for me – but that in many ways the plot and setting was in a California long-gone, and even fading in memory as those who recall it as children and teenagers in the 1930s and 40ies pass from this mortal coil. There once was a California of ranches and small farms,  orchards of citrus trees surrounded by windbreaks of eucalyptus, olive trees and grapes for raisins and wine, dairy farms, plantations of olive trees, almonds and other specialty crops, interspersed with small towns of comfortable early 20th century houses, modest suburbs and the occasional grand estate in Pasadena, Santa Barbera, or San Marino, established by a scattering of old wealth who loved the mild climate. I was around to see the last few bits of pre-WWII California, which my parents remembered from their own growing up, before it was all swamped in miles and miles of development sprawl and strangled by new freeways. The California that my parents knew and loved, and that I remember most fondly is all but gone – the world described in The Singing Cave is saved from the wreck like a bit of flotsam, a window into a previous time, and a reflection of the way that things used to be.

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